


Paris on Leave

by Bluebuell33



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Barely noticed, Bisexual John Watson, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sherlock Holmes, I blame La Vie En Rose, Johnlock - Freeform, Love at First Sight, M/M, Paris - Freeform, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 21:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17353307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebuell33/pseuds/Bluebuell33
Summary: John strolled down the streets of Paris with no goal or plan in mind for the day. He was on leave for 48 hours in France and he just wanted to relax. He had never been to Paris before this and he wanted to see it all





	Paris on Leave

**Author's Note:**

> One night a week ago I was listening to La Vie En Rose, while taking a shower and this fic idea hit me like a train. I had the first part all planned out before I was out of the shower. I found a violin version of the song and listened to it on repeat as I wrote this story. Its my first attempted at writing a bit of smut, so bear that in mind while reading. I hope you all enjoy this story, it has very little to no angst in it, which if you have read anything else of mine you may find hard to believe. lol  
> This story was going to be just short like 600 words about Sherlock playing and John watching him, it then went off to become much more. Leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Thank you for reading! <3

________________________________

 

John strolled down the streets of Paris with no goal or plan in mind for the day. He was on leave for 48 hours in France and he just wanted to relax.  

He had never been to Paris before this and he wanted to see it all. That was one of the reasons he had joined the Army, to see the world (his adventure side), to help people (his doctor side) and to fight a war (his danger side).  

Now here he was in the middle of this gorgeous city, walking past cute little cafes, smelling the flowers at the stands around the street and snapping photos of the sights, just enjoying himself. He was to meet up with Bill and James later at a predetermined pub next to the hotel they were staying at, until then he was free. 

While pasting by a small side street, he could hear the most beautiful version of La Vie En Rose being played on a violin. John found himself following the sound down the side street, he wasn’t sure what about it was drawing him in. He had heard the song many times in the course of his day, it seemed to be a tourist attraction in the main areas of the city, but this -- this was different. This song was more soulful and sadder sounding, he was motivated to find the source behind the sound more than ever.  

He turned a corner and found what he had been searching for, something he didn’t even know he was missing. Standing on a second-floor balcony playing the violin was the most beautiful man, John had ever beheld.  His dark curly hair seemed to sway to the flow of the music. The man’s eyes were closed as he stood playing, lost in the song. He had the most striking cheeks bones that even from this distance John could see. He wore black trousers and a deep purple shirt that caused his already pale skin to look even more ivory. The top two buttons of the shirt were undone, making his neck look impossibly long. The man was tall and so slender that a stiff breeze could blow him away. 

John stood below mesmerized by the vision before him, quickly he snatched his phone out from his pocket, taking a quick photo of the man, as though he would disappear at any moment.  

As he looked down at his phone to check the photo, he heard the song come to an end. He moved his eyes back up to the man and found him staring down, watching John’s every movement with interest. For several moments they just stood staring at the other like they had found a long-lost love.  

John felt the urge to climb the vine on the side of the building up to the balcony, so he could just be near to this man. Instead John smiled up at the man, wondering if he was to say something if the man would hear him or would be open to talking with John.  

From inside the room he could hear someone yelling, the man on the balcony quickly turned moving towards the double doors, but not before turning to flashing a smile down to John, then the beautiful man disappeared inside the room. John waited for a moment to see if he would return, but instead a stern looking man walked out on the balcony dressed in a three-piece suit, carrying an umbrella. He gave John a displeased look that told him, he had better start moving on before the coppers were called.  

John slowly started moving back to the main street, that he had left earlier to follow the music, he still had a few hours left before he had to meet the boys. He couldn’t help but hum the song as he turned the corner. He wondered if he would ever see the gorgeous man again. At least he had a photo of him, so he could remember always the man that would hold his heart for the rest of time.  

 

\------------------ 

John spent the next few hours wondering, he circled the Eiffel tower, but choose not to go to the top. Truth be told he had spent most of the time just thinking about the man on the balcony. He decided to go back past the balcony on his way to meet James and Bill. It was only a small detour.  

He found the street easily as his mind couldn’t seem to forget one detail about the event that afternoon. The street was deserted and the build was dark, John paused for a few moments trying to decide if he wanted to ring the door or not. The vision of the second unpleasant man flashed through his mind and he decided to come back tomorrow and try his luck then as it was a bit late for a social call. 

He stopped quickly at his hotel to change out of the clothes he had been wearing all day, before continuing on to the pub. When he arrived, Bill and James already had a table and were working on their second beer. John had started towards them with a smile and a wave, when he saw a vision with dark curly hair two tables behind them. He stopped looking passed his friends to the beautiful mystery man, who was watching John just as intently as he had been earlier. He didn’t seem surprised to John as John was to see him. In fact, he seemed to be waiting for John to walk in just now.  

John couldn’t help but grin at the man, it was like a prayer answered, when the man grinned back, John’s heart skipped a beat. John passed by his mates and headed straight for the man, as though his feet had wings. He could hear Bill laughed and comment that ‘Three Continents Watson’ strikes again and it looked like it would be just James and him tonight.  

John hoped the man couldn’t hear them as he stepped up to the table, suddenly his stomach was filled with butterflies.  

“Hey, fancy seeing you here. Are you following me?” He teased.  

“No, but after this afternoon, I felt a draw towards you and sought you out as your time here is short.” 

John was not prepared for the sound of this man’s voice. It was deep and rumbled through the man’s chest. He had the most prefect cupid bow lips and his eyes were stunning, they seemed to change color every time the man blinked.  _Wait, how did he know John didn’t have much time here?_  

“How did you know my time here is short? Are you sure you're not following me?" John questioned.  

“You are clearly on leave for 48 hours from the British army before returning to... Which is it Afghanistan or Iraq?”  

“Afghanistan. But how could you know all of that?” 

“I observed you earlier from the balcony and noted that you are a military man on leave in Paris for a few days. Your hair cut and stance said military and the tan lines just now said Afghanistan or Iraq.”  

“That is brilliant. You got all of that is just a few moments that we have shared?” John felt as though his jaw was laying on the floor. This man must be a genius or stalking him. At this point, it could be either and John would still be in love.  

“So, tell me something. Do you believe in love at first sight?” John was feeling bold all of a sudden, maybe it was just the city of love, but he couldn’t stop himself.  

The man looked at him with curious eyes before he replied. “Not before today.”  

John stuck out his hand. “Dr. John Watson, currently of fifth Northumberland fusiliers.”  

“Sherlock Holmes, currently a consulting detective.” Both men grinned as they shook hands and John proceeded to sit down next to Sherlock.  

“A consulting detective huh?”  

“Yes, the only one in the world, I invented the job. When the police are out of their depth, which is always, they call me.” Sherlock, seemed very proud of this.  

“So, do you live here?” John found he wanted to know everything he could about Sherlock.  

“No, I have been visiting a great Aunt of mine with my brother. She is one of last living relatives, we have and is in poor health. My brother has dragged me down here for the week.”  

“Oh, I am sorry to hear about your Aunt.”  

“Thank you, John. It was for her that I was playing for earlier today, that is one of her favourite songs.”  

“It is now my favourite song as well.” John watched Sherlock cheeks turn pink as he looked down at his hands.  

“Do you want to get out of here? Maybe go for a walk?” John asked, wanting to spend as much time as he could with Sherlock without his friends or everyone else in the pub watching their every move.  

“I would love too.”  

They stood and headed for the door, John ignored the catcalls coming from James and Bill. They were just jealous he was walking out of here with the best-looking bloke in Paris.  

As they started down the street, John felt the need to hold Sherlock’s hand.  _Would Sherlock be open to touching in public?_ He wondered. _Not everyone is_ _comfortable_ _with showing_ _affection_ _in public._  

As they walked, John let his hand slightly graze Sherlock’s since they were walking so closely, after a few casual brushes, John let his pinky link with Sherlock’s. He felt a sigh of relief when the man didn’t pull his hand away instead seemed to squeeze John’s pinky with his.  

They spent the next hour walking the streets and talking about different things. Now and then Sherlock would deduce people, they passed for John’s amusement. John couldn’t help but wonder if all the deductions were true like they had been for him as some were quite funny.  

Before long he could hear his stomach rumble with hungry, he caught Sherlock smirking at the sound.  

“I know of a great place around the corner from here that we can stop at.” 

“Sounds perfect.” John tried to think of the last time he had eating today, having been so busy seeing the sights and then getting to the pub on time, he had completely skipped lunch.  

Once they were seated in the front window of the little bistro, John looked the menu over between glancing at Sherlock over the top. Even time he would look up, Sherlock would be staring back at him, they found themselves grinning like idiots for being caught staring at the other.  

Nothing had ever felt so right, so amazing as it did right now. John could hardly believe that he was here sitting next to this amazing man. He kept wondering if he was going to wake up and realize this had all been a dream. Just then he felt a foot graze from his ankle to his shin, he looked over to see Sherlock watching him with a raised eyebrow and smirk. John couldn’t help winking at Sherlock before joining the game of footsie under the table. He felt like a teenager again.  

Their food was served shortly after with a bottle of wine, which was delicious and John couldn’t help but have a few glasses more then he normally would.  

Oh, why did he only have 48 hours to enjoy this, not even that now. He counted in his head only 36 hours left. Time to be bold again John.  

“We should view the city from the top of the Eiffel Tower!” John decided. “I have always wanted too.”  

Sherlock laughed, but agreed just the same. Soon, they were on their way, this time John reached for Sherlock’s hand as they walked, if this was going to be over soon, he wanted make the most of the time they had together.  

The feel of Sherlock’s hand in his, felt natural and right. He began to entertain the idea that this was more than passing fling and maybe they could be something after Paris...  

At the top of the tower, John stood at the rail staring out over the city, he felt Sherlock step up behind him and wrap his arms around John’s waist, leaning his head on John’s shoulder.  

“Beautiful.” Sherlock whispered in his ear.  

“Yea, the view is great from up here.” John replied, turning to see Sherlock was looking at him and not the city.  

For a moment, John’s heart stopped beating, followed by leaning his head to capture Sherlock’s lips with his. It was the most tender, beautiful kiss he had ever had in his life. If he lived for a hundred years, he wouldn’t forget this kiss or this night.  

“Spend the night with me?” John whispered, turning to face Sherlock. For a moment, Sherlock said nothing, John began to feel that he had read the situation wrong.  

Sherlock slowly raised his hands from John’s waist to his face, tenderly kissing both his eye lids, his cheeks, the tip of his nose and finally his lips. John felt like the only two people in the world, as he stood on the top of the Eiffel tower in the city of romance, sharing a passionate kiss with the man he knew he was falling in love with.   

 

\------------------------- 

 

20 minutes later, they entered John’s hotel room, closing the door behind him and turning towards Sherlock, John found himself wondering how he got so lucky.  

“Tell me you want this too?” He reached out taking both of Sherlock’s hands in his. “Tell me you are feeling this too and that it’s not just me or this city.”  

“John, you may not know this about me yet, but I never do anything I don’t want to do. I want this, want you more than I thought was possible. I have never felt this way about anyone else. Now please stop worrying and take me to bed already.”  

John could feel his fear lift as they both stepped forward, reaching for each other. Sherlock walked him back, pushing him up against the hotel door before crushing their mouths together. Their movements were almost frantic as they tried to touch as much of the other as they could. John could feel his blood all rushing south at the feel of Sherlock’s hands on him. 

He fumbled with the buttons on Sherlock’s shirt, while Sherlock sucked on his bottom lip causing his mouth to open in a moan. Sherlock took advantage of this, surging his tongue in to seek and conquer. John was so delirious with desire, that when Sherlock started undoing his buttons that he forgot to finish removing Sherlock’s shirt and just hung on. Once his shirt was open, Sherlock ran his hands down John’s ribs as he kissed a line across his jaw and down his neck.  

The sensation was incredible as Sherlock sucked a mark on his neck right at the pulse point, John could feel his erection began to press tightly against his jeans as a result. When Sherlock released the skin to check his handy work, John took the second of pause, to obtain some control and finish removing Sherlock shirt, tossing it to the side. He marveled at the man before him, shirtless he was even more a sight to see. His ivory skin made him seem unreal, like a marble statue you would find in an art gallery.  

“God, you are so beautiful. How are you even real?” John spoke between kissing Sherlock’s chest.  

The only answer he received was a moan as he reached the man’s left nipple, teasing and flicking it with his tongue. The sounds Sherlock made, sent ripples of desire to John’s groin and his cock swelled from half to fully hard. 

“Hmmm like that did you?” John smiled and moved to the right side, to do the same, before stepping back. “We should move this to the bed.”  

“Yes, -- please.” Sherlock was almost begging.   

They moved across the room, kissing and peeling away the extra clothes until they were both left with just pants on. The back of Sherlock’s legs had reached the edge of the bed, when John stopped, stepping back, looking at Sherlock from his riot of curls to his bare feet. He let out a breath of air at the beauty before him.  

Stepping forward again, he ran his palm up Sherlock’s thigh, to cup the bulge in the front of his pants. He could feel a wet spot growing as Sherlock’s erection began to leak. Sherlock gripped John’s shoulders, as John brushed his thumb over the head of Sherlock’s cock, causing him to moan, his head dropping back and eyes closing.  

“You are stunning.” John whispered, grazing his lips against Sherlock’s neck before sinking to his knees, taking Sherlock’s pants to the floor with him in one swift motion.  

Sherlock’s cock instantly free of its confines, caught John across his cheek, leaving a streak of pre-cum as John help Sherlock step out of his pants.  

The sight of Sherlock standing over him, reaching down with his thumb to wipe the streak of pre-cum from John’s cheek, while his erection bobbed at face level, made John’s own cock swell more as he wondered how he had gotten so lucky to have found this man in all of Paris. He let out a groan and leaned forward slightly, holding Sherlock’s hips with both hands, licking a strip up the underside of Sherlock’s cock, sucking the tip in to his mouth.  

This resulted in the most wonderful noises from Sherlock. John could feel Sherlock’s body shiver as he moaned and almost whimpered, when John sucked him down. Sherlock’s cock was fairly long and thick for his slender size, John marveled at the feel of the weight in his mouth.  

He felt Sherlock grip his hair as he alternated between sucking him fully down and teasing the tip with small licks and sucks. He ran his hands down Sherlock’s thighs and around to grab his pump bottom, kneading his cheeks, which caused Sherlock to breath more heavily.  

“John,” Sherlock moaned, pulling gently on his hair. “This is going to end far too fast if you don’t stop. I want more, I want to see you.” 

John pulled back, letting Sherlock slip from his mouth, he tilted his head, grinning up at him. The vision of Sherlock lost in pleasure was beautiful, John stood slowly, running his hands along, while kissing his way up Sherlock’s body until he reached his mouth again, pulling him in to a deep kiss. John let his tongue fully explore and taste Sherlock’s mouth, leaving them both breathless.  

He gasped in surprise as Sherlock turned them quickly, pushing John back so he fell across the bed, he leaned forward easing John’s pants off before crawling up to straddle John’s thighs. John hissed with pleasure as their cocks lined up and rubbed against the other.  

Sherlock leaned down, his hands on either side of John’s shoulders as he started kissing from John’s chest, up his neck and finally capturing his lips. Sherlock moved his hips just enough to cause the most delicious friction as their cocks slide together. 

“Do you have any slick?” He whispered in John’s ear, while he nibbled at the edges. John nodded towards the nightstand. His mind barely functioning with all the sensations his body was experiencing from Sherlock kissing, nipping and sucking at his skin on top of the glorious feeling of their erections sliding simultaneously.   

Sherlock reached out, grabbing the bottle from the drawer, pouring some in his hand, before reaching between them to wrap his hand around both of their cocks. This made John arch off the bed at the touch, straining against Sherlock, who still straddled him, holding his hips down affectedly with his legs.  

Sherlock teased them both with short strokes and grazes across the tips that sent John sailing with pleasure. His body was singing with pleasure as Sherlock sped up his hand causing them both to pant and cry out. John moved his hands from gripping the duvet to gripping Sherlock’s hips and anything else he could reach.  

He could feel his climax building as Sherlock seemed to know just what he needed. He tried to keep his eyes closed because the sight of Sherlock with his back arched, head thrown back and his hand on their cocks was enough to send him over the edge in a second. But he couldn’t close his ears and the sounds that Sherlock was making drove his orgasm to the top, he cried out, panting while he spilled on to Sherlock’s hand and his own stomach. Sherlock followed him shortly adding to the mess that now covered John, then collapsed on top of him, nuzzling in to his neck.  

“That was brilliant.” John stated as his body relaxing to the point if he didn’t move now to clean them up, he never would. He turned his face, kissing Sherlock’s forehead, before easing off the bed and to the loo.  He re-entered the room with a flannel to cleaning them both with, after he threw it towards the loo, sliding back in to bed and pulling Sherlock in to his arms.  

They lay there cuddled together, John’s arms around Sherlock, while Sherlock’s head is on his shoulder and his arms around John’s middle. John could feel Sherlock’s breathing even out as he seemed to drift off to sleep.  

He kissed Sherlock’s curls, whispering. “Thank you for an amazing tonight. I believe I am falling in love with you.”  

He gently squeezed Sherlock closer before drifting off to sleep himself, dreaming of the gorgeous man with dark curly hair and eyes like the sea.  

 

\---------------- 

John didn’t need to reach out in the morning to know Sherlock was gone. He opened his eyes to find the room empty of Sherlock and the trail of clothes, John had removed from him last night.  

Sitting on the nightstand was a note that read:  

 **Thank you for a perfect night.**  

 **I can’t be what you need.**  

 **I am sorry, I wish I could.**  

 **SH**  

 

 John closed his eyes, curling into himself, his heart breaking.  _What did Sherlock think he needed to be for_ _John?_ _Maybe he wasn’t sleeping last night and heard John talking. God he was an idiot. He had falling again for someone who didn’t want him back._  

John decided to spend the rest of his leave in bed, there was no use going to the little side street looking for Sherlock, he wouldn't be there. He spent the day remembering everything from the night before as he stared at the photo of Sherlock on his phone. A chance meeting in a foreign country, love that wasn’t meant to be.  

Tomorrow, John would return to the war and try to move pass this broken heart that was crushing his chest, aching for just one man.  

 

\------------------------- 

It had been nine months since that night in Paris and two months since John was shot in the shoulder and sent home to London. His heart still ached for Sherlock, the man that give him a prefect night in Paris, he could never forget. There had been no one since him. No one could ever fill the Sherlock shaped hole in his heart.  

Now he was living in a tiny government provided bedsit, that he hated and could barely afford. He only had another month left before he would have to find somewhere else to live.  

He was trying not to think about this as he walked through the park on his way to the coffee shop, he was still trying to get use to the cane he needed and the aching in his shoulder.  

“John? John Watson? Its Mike. Mike Stamford.”  

 

\------------------- 

 

Two hours and a lunch later, John followed Mike in to the lab at St. Barts, to meet a potential flatmate that Mike knew.  

“Mike can I borrow your phone? Mine has no signal.” Came a deep voice as they entered the room. 

John stopped moving, closing his eyes. No, it couldn’t be... Of all the cities and all the labs in Britain, he had to walk in to the only one that contained a Consulting Detective with high cheeks bones, cupid bow lips, a riot of dark curls and piercing eyes. 

He slowly opened his eyes to look straight in to the blue-green eyes of one Sherlock Holmes. Both stared, neither moving. Mike looked between them, picking up on who knows what before saying he was needed somewhere and left the room.  

John swallowed down the butterflies and his racing heart, before speaking. “I can’t believe it’s you. I often wondered if I would ever find you again.  Can I – can I ask why you left that night in Paris? I have tried to understand what I did wrong all those months ago.”   

A look of surprise and shock spread across Sherlock’s face. “It wasn’t you, it was me.”  

“Isn’t that what they all say.” John scoffed, hold his hand up in defeat. “You know what never mind. I don’t want to know. Forget I asked. Mike told me you were looking for a flatmate, but I am not sure that’s a good idea. I think I will just go.”   

As John turned taking a step towards the door, his leg started flaring up, making him wince at the pain. 

“It’s psychosomatic you know? The pain in your leg.” 

John paused not turning back. “Doesn’t make it feel any less real.” He said, before walking again. 

“I--I panicked that night.” Sherlock blurted out. John turned slowly to face him again. Waiting.  

“I panicked when we were laying there, wrapped together after the most prefect night of my life and all I could think was how you didn’t know the real me, then—well then you whisper that you—that you thought you were falling in love with me and I knew no one could ever love the real me... I didn’t want you to find out that I wasn’t who you thought I was. So, I ran.” Sherlock hung his head after finishing.  

John could only stare at him as he wrapped his head around everything.  After a moment, he walked up to Sherlock, lifting his hand to Sherlock’s cheek, grazing his thumb across his cheek bone. Bring Sherlock up to face him, searching his eyes for the same emotions that were running through John’s.  

“In that short time, I felt like I knew you better than most I have known my whole life.’ He started. “In that short time, I knew I could never love another like I loved you. For the past 11 months I have tried to forget you, to move past loving you, but I couldn’t. You are all I wanted. I am not the same man you meet all those months ago in Paris, but my feelings for you have not changed. I think I deserve a chance to know the person you consider the real you. I can tell you now if he even a quarter of the man I met in Paris, then I love him already. Just say the word and I will walk away or I will stay and love you with all my heart.”  

They stood there for what seems like ages, John with his hand still on Sherlock’s cheek and they gazed in to the other’s eyes. John lifted his hand after a moment, removing it from Sherlock’s cheek as Sherlock had not reciprocated any feelings towards him, only stared. As he lowered his hand unsure of what happened now, Sherlock caught it, lifting it back to his mouth, kissing John’s wrist.  

“I don’t deserve you.” He breathed in to John’s palm. “But I am also selfish and don’t want to give you up either. Stay with me? Get to know me. Love me as I love you, John. Say you will?”  

“Yes, of course. Always.” John leaned up catching Sherlock in a tender kiss, that left them both wanting more.  

“I am in need of a flatmate as Mike said. The only catch is there is only one bedroom.” Sherlock winking at John, stepping back as he proceeded to put on his coat.  

“I am sure we will make due.” John laughed, watching Sherlock tie his scarf on.  

“I am sure we will. Now come on John we have a murderer to catch!”  

With that, they ran out of the lab and in to the evening in pursuit of a murderer, leaving behind John’s cane, leaning against the chair in the lab where Sherlock had been standing just before.  


End file.
